


Monday's Child

by andtheyfightcrime



Series: 7(00) days of Summer [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Buffy's birthday, Family Feels, Gen, Pre-Canon, just before Hank Summers became an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 06:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andtheyfightcrime/pseuds/andtheyfightcrime
Summary: Not all of Buffy's birthdays have been terrible.A look at Buffy's birthdays pre-Sunnydale and pre-vampire slayage.





	1. Is fair of face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy's birthdays through the years, and some of them aren't all terrible. But not many.

**January 18, 1981**

**10:00 pm**

_Working nine to five what a way to make a living_

“Honey, how are you feeling?” Hank glanced over at his wife worriedly as he navigated through the streets. His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel.

“Like a baby is trying to come out of me,” Joyce seethed, her temple pressed against the passenger window. She exhaled sharply. “She wants out.”

“She’s not supposed to come until next week,” Hank fretted.

“Well, tell your daughter that – can you please change the station?”

Dolly’s warble faded into static as Hank turned the knob on the car radio. “I thought you liked Dolly.”

“I do, just not right now. Oh!” Joyce leaned over, gasping.

Hank slammed his hand against the horn, the angry sound filling up the car. “I should have taken the side streets.”

“How far away are we from the hospital?” Joyce winced and stroked her belly, willing her baby to just hold on a little longer.

“About twenty minutes. Can you hold on, babe?” Joyce reached over and grabbed Hank’s thigh. She squeezed it tightly.

“I have the cramps from hell. Just get us there.”

“Of course, honey.” Hank grimaced. “Could you let go?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Joyce leaned back into her seat and counted her contractions.

 

**January 19, 1981**

**12:01 am**

Hank wiped down his wife’s sweaty face. She smiled up at him blearily. “Can I see her?”

“Yeah, the nurse is just cleaning her up.” He beamed at her. “You did great, honey. She’s beautiful.”

The nurse walked over with a pink and blue striped bundle in her arms. “She’s six pounds and five ounces.”

“Funny, I thought I named her Buffy,” Joyce murmured. She didn’t hear Hank’s chuckle as the world narrowed down to the sight of the perfect little face swaddled in cotton.

“Hello, Buffy,” Joyce whispered. She kissed her forehead gently. “Welcome to the world, baby.”

 

**January 19, 1989**

**4:00 p.m.**

“Mommy, mommy, is Celia here yet?” Buffy thundered down the stairs, her hair bouncing behind her. “I want her to see my pretty dress!”

Joyce stopped mid-conversation with the caterer and smiled fondly at her daughter. “No, but your aunt Arlene is on her way. Tyler and Stephanie will be here in five minutes, why don’t you go into the living room and wait for them?”

Buffy placed her hands on her hips and pouted. “Ew. Why is Tyler coming?”

“Because he’s in your class and everyone is coming. Don’t pout. Your face will stick that way.”

“Nuh uh,” Buffy said. “Jenny makes faces all the time and it never sticks.”

“Buffy Anne Summers, I believe I told you to go to the living room. Unless you want to help Marissa and I count napkins for the party?”

“I’m going,” Buffy sighed. She twirled her blue spangled skirt. “Marissa, don’t you think my dress is pretty?”

The caterer grinned. “Wonder Woman, right? It’s very pretty.”

Buffy rocked back and forth in her shiny red boots. “Yes. She’s my favorite princess.”

The doorbell rang and Buffy’s face brightened. “They’re here!”

A chorus of squeals and shrieks greeted her as she opened the door. Stephanie, Jenny, and best of all, Celia stood on her porch, laden with gift bags. Celia threw her arms around Buffy, laughing. “Happy Birthday!”

 

 

Joyce swirled her glass of wine and gazed out at the brightly colored bounce castle in her back yard. Buffy was leading the other children down the slide and everyone seemed to be having fun. The other mothers had complimented Joyce on the party food and decorations, with Tyler’s mother asking for Marissa’s number. It would have been a perfect birthday party, except for Hank’s absence. He was stuck in a business meeting and promised to make up for it later. She knew it was because of his promotion at work, but she missed him. Buffy missed him.

Arlene bumped against her shoulder. “Is everything all right?”

“What do you mean?” Joyce sipped her wine.

“You don’t have to make excuses for my big brother, you know.” Arlene’s voice was quiet. “He’s not here.”

“Ever since he got the promotion at work,” Joyce sighed, “He’s been working overtime. Today he was going to leave early, but his boss pulled him into a meeting. I know he wants to be the district manager, but I don’t know if the extra money is worth it. This is the first birthday party he’s missed.”

“He’ll be groveling, I guarantee it. I know he wouldn’t have missed it if he didn’t have a good reason.” Arlene handed Joyce a chocolate cupcake. “Now, what do you say we finish off the cupcakes before the kids notice they’re gone?”

“You always know the right thing to say.” Joyce smiled.

Arlene saluted her with the cupcake. “Also, I need you to look after Celia this weekend. Her father and I need some alone time.”

“Slumber party it is. Buffy will love that.” They watched their children play. Celia waved at her mother. “Mommy watch this!”

She put her hands on Buffy’s shoulders and hopped. Buffy caught her cousin’s legs as they wrapped around her waist and piggybacked her around the yard.

“She’s strong for a little thing,” Arlene remarked.

“I know. We’re looking into soccer or gymnastics for her. She’s got so much energy lately.”

“Celia’s starting ballet. Maybe Buffy would like that too.”

“Oh that would be darling. I can just imagine the outfits.”

 

 

 

**January 19, 1989**

**8:00 p.m.**

Buffy woke up when her father opened her bedroom door. “Daddy?” She rubbed her eyes sleepily.

“Hey princess. I’m sorry I missed your party.” Hank stepped inside, his hands behind his back. “Your mom told me it was very fun.”

“It was so much fun,” Buffy sat up. “There was a bouncing castle and we had pizza and ice cream and cupcakes, and we played tag and hide and seek. Tyler had to be it and he couldn’t find me, so I won.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “But I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Daddy is very sorry – so sorry, that I asked a special friend to help me say I’m sorry.” He revealed the soft pink pig behind his back. “Mr. Gordo wants to know if you want to go see the ice show with him. I’ll have to drive you of course.”

Buffy reached out for the pig eagerly. “Thank you, daddy. I love him!”

“So, will you go to the ice-skating show with us?” Hank made the pig dance.

“Yes. If you buy us ice cream.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal. Let’s shake on it.” He solemnly held out his hand. Buffy giggled and shook it.

 

**January 19, 1990**

**5:00 p.m.**

Joyce leaned against the door, listening. It was silent in Buffy’s room. She knocked again. “Buffy?”

“Go away.”

“Sweetheart. Do you want me to call the birthday party off? I can.”

A long silence passed and then the door opened. Buffy peered out, her eyes red-rimmed. “I miss her, mom.”

Joyce’s heart sank. “Oh baby.” She held out her arms.

Buffy walked into her embrace, her face pressed against her belly. “Celia should be here.”

Joyce rubbed her back. “I know. I miss her too.”

“Is it going to hurt like this forever?”

Joyce stroked her cheek. “No. It will hurt, but then it will hurt less. It just takes time. And Celia will always be in your heart, and that will never go away.”

“Can you call it off? I think I just want to celebrate with you and Dad.”

“All right, honey.”

Joyce smoothed Buffy’s hair and gave her a quick squeeze. “Splash on some cold water and I’ll be waiting downstairs with pizza and your favorite chocolate cake.”

“Okay.”

Joyce waited a bit and then hurried downstairs, where Hank was waiting with a bouquet of flowers and balloons. Various classmates of Buffy’s were standing around a fruit punch bowl and the pizza buffet. She looked at them apologetically. “I’m sorry but Buffy’s not feeling well. So, the party’s canceled. Thank you so much for coming, I’ll call your parents right now.”

 

**January 19, 1990**

**8:00 p.m.**

Buffy padded out into the living room in her favorite pajamas. Her parents were already on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them. “Can I stay up late tonight?”

“Only because tomorrow’s Saturday,” Joyce said indulgently.

“What your mom said. Come here and sit by your old dad.”

Buffy moved the popcorn bowl and curled up beside Hank, her head cushioned on his shoulder. “What are we watching?”

“Double feature for our birthday girl,” Joyce said softly. “The Princess Bride and The Muppet Movie.”

“Yay,” Buffy said happily.

 

**January 19, 1992**

**7:00 p.m.**

Hank poked his head into the kitchen. “I’ve done my check, warden. Everything is above board, and everyone was keeping their hands to themselves. It’s your turn.”

Joyce rolled her eyes. “If she’s embarrassed by us now, I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when she’s an actual teenager.”

“Don’t remind me,” Hank said. “I already don’t like that Tyler. He looks untrustworthy.”

“He’s eleven years old, Hank. Besides, I happen to know classified info that Buffy does not like Tyler.”

She dropped her voice to a whisper. “She likes Billy Fordham, but he couldn’t come to her party.”

“Wow. Wait, who’s this Billy?”

 

**January 19, 1992**

**8:00 p.m.**

“Bye. Thanks for coming to my party. See you tomorrow. Bye. Thank you for the presents. Bye!” Buffy waved as the last of her classmates disappeared into the line of waiting cars outside her house. She rubbed her arms, her skin prickling in the cool night air. She should have grabbed her fluffy sweater, but her velvet dress looked so nice without it. She turned to go back inside.

“Hey Summers.”

Buffy froze. Only one person called her that. She turned around slowly.

Billy Fordham was standing on her lawn, his hands tucked into his pockets. He smiled crookedly at her. “Heard it was your birthday.”

Buffy stared. “Yeah, because I gave you an invitation.”

He shrugged, his ears turning slightly pink. “Uh. I had karate practice.”

“Oh. Well thanks for stopping by, I guess.” She tried to keep her voice cool.

“Wait. Happy Birthday…Buffy.” Billy took something from his pocket and shoved it into her hand. “I’ll see you at school.”

He ran off, Buffy looking at him in astonishment.

She opened her hand. A pretty shell gleamed in her palm.

 

**January 19, 1995**

**7:00 a.m.**

Buffy stared up at her ceiling, her jaw locked as she remembered the previous night. Her parents had had another argument that she pretended not to hear and muffled with her headphones until she fell asleep.

They were fighting over every little thing now. First, it was her father making snide remarks about the credit card bill, and then her mother forgetting yet another company dinner she had to host. Hank was spending every other weekend at his office. Joyce was drinking wine with every dinner every night.

She hated it.

“Buffy! Get up, breakfast is ready.” She closed her eyes and wished for an argument free day.

“Coming, Mom!”

 

There were pancakes with smiling faces picked out in strawberries and blueberries, along with a birthday card by her plate.

“Where’s dad?” Joyce’s lips thinned slightly and then her expression smoothed out. “He left for work already, but the card is from him. He’ll be home for dinner.”

“Oh.”  Buffy cut into her pancakes with forced enthusiasm. “These are really good, mom.”

“You’re welcome, honey. And, happy birthday.”

 

**January 19, 1995**

**10:00 p.m.**

As birthdays went, it hadn’t been too bad. There was an unspoken truce between her parents – there were no arguments at all when her father came home. He even kissed her mother on the cheek. They had a civil conversation during dinner and Buffy managed to avoid telling them about the C minus she got on her math exam. At school, Nicole, Jenny, and Stephanie had chipped in to get her this totally cute backpack from Guess, and Tyler had stopped by her table at lunch to ask her out. For a movie.

Yeah, for a Buffy birthday, it had been pretty good after all.

Buffy smiled and snuggled into her duvet. Maybe her luck would continue and she’d have a Tyler dream. Or maybe one about Westley from the Princess Bride.

“As you wish,” she mumbled.

 

**January 20, 1995**

**2:00 a.m.**

Buffy jolted awake, disoriented and sweaty. She touched her neck and shivered. What had that been about? She didn’t even like horror movies, but she had a nightmare about some kind of demon. And fire. Fire had definitely been a theme, as her teacher would have said. Maybe the yogurt she had for dessert had spoiled somehow – didn’t people get weird after eating bad food? She grimaced.

“No more French-vanilla yogurt for Buffy.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Buffy fanfic, but I've been in the fandom for years, mostly as a supportive lurker and sometimes dabbler of fanart. You do dabble too.
> 
> I wrote this in honor of Buffy's birthday, and of course managed to post it the day after. Hopefully the momentum will continue with 18 more stories to make my own mini Buffy fic marathon, but I make no promises. I reposted this with some minor editing tweaks. Thanks for those who have left kudos!
> 
> Also, Dolly Parton's birthday is January 19th as well, so double the iconic blonde.


	2. in which birthdays become irrelevant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we're heading dangerously close to canon birthdays, which, yikes.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

**January 19, 1996**

**10:00 p.m.**

"It's a school night," Buffy hissed in the dark. "I should be at home. Attempting to do homework."

"Tomorrow is Saturday, Ms. Summers," Merrick said crisply. "Besides, the forces of evil don't sleep."

"Well _I_ do," Buffy said. "And in my bed and not during fifth period history, because Mr. Gallagher has already written me up twice for that. Come _on_ , Merrick. I don't even see any vampires around. They probably all went to Florida for the winter."

An icy silence greeted her observation. "Are you joking, Ms. Summers?"

"Well. Yeah." Buffy shrugged. "I mean I know, Southern California doesn't have much to offer in terms of weather, but it does get cold at night."

"Winters in Southern California," Merrick sniffed, "are more of a suggestion than a reality."

"I'll do one more sweep and then I'm going to call it a night. Besides, it's my _birthday_ ," she said plaintively.

"Ah. Yes, of course," Merrick replied. He handed her a knife. "Happy birthday."

"Just what every girl wants," Buffy said dryly. "Thanks, Merrick."

 

When she walked home that evening, she felt an odd tingle. Her shoulders tensed and she turned around slowly. Nothing was there. Buffy frowned and turned back around.

 

**June 21, 1996**

**4:00 p.m.**

She knew something was wrong when she arrived home from cheerleading practice.

Both her parents were waiting for her in the dining room. Her father pulled out a chair. “Have a seat, honey. We need to talk to you.“

“That’s not good,” she said lightly. “What’s up?”

Joyce sighed and glanced at Hank. “It hasn’t exactly been a secret that your father and I haven’t been getting along.”

“It’s fine,” Buffy mumbled. “Stephanie’s parents fight all the time, but she says they’re lawyers and that’s what they do.”

“Yes, well, your mother and I – we’ve talked it over. And we don’t want to lie to you or make you worry about us. We went to counseling.”

“That’s good, right?” Buffy cheered up a little. “Talking about all your problems.”

“We’ve decided to separate,” Joyce said. “We’re going to try and see if that helps our marriage.”

Hank cleared his throat. “I will always love you and your mother,” he said pointedly. “It’s just that we realized we’ve grown apart in many ways. And we need to figure out how we can fix that.”

“Our love for you will never change,” Joyce said firmly. “And it has nothing to do with you, so don’t look like that.”

“Like what?” Buffy said, her lip trembling. “Like everything’s changing and there’s nothing I can do to stop it?”

She got up from her seat and ran for the stairs.

“Buffy!” Joyce called after her.

“Just let her go,” Hank said tiredly. “Way to make me look like a bad guy, by the way.”

Joyce folded her arms and stared at him. “I didn’t say anything wrong. I am trying to keep this family together the best way I know how, Hank. And I’m tired of being the bad cop all the time.”

Their squabbling faded into white noise as Buffy rushed up the stairs, her eyes swimming with tears.

She slammed the door behind her, the frame shaking in the foundation.

Buffy flung herself on her bed and crushed Mr. Gordo to her chest.

It wasn’t enough that she had some stupid curse and a Merrick lecturing her after school. It wasn’t enough that her friends were beginning to be suspicious of her excuses. Her grades were laughable and not even the burnouts wanted to be associated with her. And now her parents were separating. Her life sucked. She clenched the soft pig in her hands. “Stupid forces of evil,” she whispered. “I don’t want this.”

 

**October 2, 1996**

**4:00 p.m.**

Are you getting too old for this?”

Buffy blinked and focused on her father. “Huh?”

He waved an ice cream cone at her. “Having ice cream with your dad.”

She shook her head vigorously. “No way. You know I can’t turn down ice cream. Just thinking about stuff.”

She chewed on her lip then stole a glance at her father. “Like…you and mom rethinking this whole separation thing.”

Hank’s gaze softened. “Honey. It’s not a separation. We’re divorcing. Your mother just has to sign the paperwork.”

Buffy slumped in her seat. “I know, but – “

“It’s nothing you did. Don’t think that for a second,” Hank said. “Your mom and I tried our best, but we didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Says you,” she muttered. “I don’t know why we have to move.”

“That was your mother’s decision. I wouldn’t mind if you were closer, but the distance is driveable. My job keeps me here – and well, with everything that’s happened, Joyce wants her distance. And we want the best for you. A fresh start.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling the ever-present guilt settle in her belly. “I know it was hard for you and mom. And the whole Hemery thing –”

“I won’t say I understood that,” Hank said carefully. “But I love you and you’ve been punished enough. You finished your community service and wrote an apology to the principal. And you’ll be moving away from that bad influence – all those rich spoiled kids.”

She used to be one of those rich spoiled kids, she thought. Now she was just an expelled freak with no friends. Whose parents were getting divorced because of her said freakiness. Oh, her parents could say whatever they liked, but she knew that her expulsion was the final nail in the coffin. Merrick's coffin, too. She swallowed and closed her eyes.

“Okay, daddy,” she said and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’ll try to be positive.”

He smiled and chucked her under her chin. “That’s my girl. You’ll do fine in Sunnydale.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realized I made a mistake with one of Buffy's birthdays in the previous chapter. Tricksy calendar days, I tell ya. But then I realized Buffy could have a birthday with Merrick, may he rest in peace.


End file.
